


La Sirena

by Shiro_Hunter



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hoshi Meguri (IDOLiSH7), Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Hoshimeguri AU, In this house it's always Gaku roasting o' clock, M/M, a prankster losing his shit over someone who can't be pranked is my jam, both Erin and Shinkai are dumbasses, dumbasses in love, how do you even tag here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-08-22 02:48:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16589375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiro_Hunter/pseuds/Shiro_Hunter
Summary: The first time Erin laid eyes on him, he felt as if he’d been put under a spell; his entire being screamed grace and dignity, almost like he’d emerged from the deep, silent sea; pure and shy and beautiful and simply majestic, almost like—Almost like…a mermaid.





	1. La Sirena

**Author's Note:**

> WELL THEN after ten years here I am, writing fics again, kinda. I just love how hoshimeguri ships hve such different dynamics than their usual selves and I'm a yamariku trash, goddammit. Personalities and general setting were mostly guessed from booklets and all the good stuff, and I'm 90% sure I went OOC at some point but dang did I had a hell load of fun writing this. 
> 
> Big thanks to @KentuckyTheFry for helping me beta read this entire thing!!! I'm sorry i had to make you sit through my 1000 grammar and wording mistakes :'DDD

The first time Erin laid eyes on him, he felt as if he’d been put under a spell.

It was as if he glided across the carpeted floor, shawl flowing in the wind and glasses reflecting the sunlight that had filtered in through the windows. His messy dark brown hair, a stark contrast from King Sardinia’s pinkish-white hair, framed his sharp-featured face; his eyes, a brilliant emerald green, hid under the shadows of his wide-brimmed hat; his hands, one wrapped nimbly around a gold-enamored flute while the other moved to hide his face even further into the collar of his cerulean cape. Almost bard-like in appearance, he trailed dutifully behind his king, the both of them positively glowing as they sat around the sleek Bestia-made table for the star observers’ annual summit meeting.

His entire being screamed grace and dignity, almost as though he’d emerged from the deep, silent sea; pure and shy and beautiful and simply _majestic_ , almost like—

_Almost like…a mermaid._

(But that in itself wasn’t anything particularly _special_ — not for someone from Sirena. King Orion still hadn’t let Erin live down the day he had frozen, eyes glued at the charming sovereign as King Sardinia gracefully entered the Laman council room for the first time since the young king’s reign began.)

Erin wasn’t even paying attention when King Sardinia announced to the council audience who he had brought with him that day:

Shinkai, attendant to the King of Sirena.

 

* * *

 

Sirena had always been famous for its fortune-telling. King Orion used to be rather dismissive of these kinds of… _rumors_ growing up, but not even he could deny being impressed when King Sardinia predicted — rather confidently — that he would trip on the third step of the throne room stairs and land ungracefully on his face in front of a large audience on the day he would be coronated. Much to King Orion’s dismay and his attendants’ chagrin, the oddly specific prophecy had ended up coming true. 

Erin, however, didn’t have any particular feeling towards the art. Yes, the future was predicted — _so what?_ Perhaps it was his upbringing as a child assassin, or the efficiency-focused mindset that had been ingrained into Laman society since the reigns of kings from centuries past, but Erin, frankly, couldn’t care less about such abstract things. What he saw, he believed; what he didn’t, he… didn’t. Simple as that. Nothing more, nothing less.

But to say he wasn’t _intrigued_ by it, however, wouldn’t have been a correct assumption to make, either.

“Tell me a fortune,” Erin said one day, while both his and Shinkai’s lieges were having a private talk. The matters which they had been discussing seemed to be of utmost importance, because the two kings had promptly ordered their attendants to leave the room, leaving Erin and Shinkai waiting, waiting, and waiting some more in the quiet hallway outside. Unfortunately for both parties, Erin and boredom had never bonded particularly well. 

Shinkai’s eyes barely looked up from under the brim of his hat. “What for?”

“Oh, to assassinate the king,” Erin answered without skipping a beat. “Ju—st kidding! Come on, relax a little, will you?”

True to Erin’s words, the features of Shinkai’s face really _were_ relaxed — in the sense that it had not changed even a little since the conversation began.

“I am fully aware.” He replied, simply.

Erin’s mocking grin slowly turned into an annoyed one— an achievement very few in his life had managed to make him do, yet this man had accomplished in the span of five minutes. “Nothing ever surprises you, does it?”

Shinkai remained emotionless as he pondered this for a bit. “I suppose so.”

Erin hummed, then switched back to his ever-dependable mischievous grin. “Okay, let’s try this, then—

“If I manage to catch you by surprise, you’ll tell me a fortune. How’s that sound?”

Shinkai finally looked back. Though his face lacked emotion, there was something in his eyes that Erin was all too familiar with — _interest_. “Are we turning this into a deal?”

Erin grinned. “More like a challenge — if I can surprise you, you’ll read me a fortune. If I can’t, I’ll…buy you something, I guess. Or off anyone you don’t like for free. Deal?”

For once, the glint in Shinkai’s eyes betrayed his flat face and shy posture, and Erin swore he could hear the minstrel letting out a huff that sounded almost like a chuckle.

“I’ll refrain from asking for any assassination requests, but you have a deal.”

“Alright! Starting off, then, have you checked your left pocket yet?”

“If it’s about the wallet, I already knew.”

Erin clicked his tongue. Shinkai reached out his hand, and Erin begrudgingly rummaged through his own pocket to return the decorated wallet to its rightful owner (for now).

“But you must’ve been _a little bit_ surprised, right?” Erin pouted.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Will you read me a little fortune for trying, though?”

“No.”

“Shin~kai,” Erin cooed. “You’re actually kind of an asshole, aren’t you.”

Shinkai looked back with that same glint in his eyes. “Pot, meet kettle, don’t you think?”

 

* * *

 

Unlike King Orion, who presented  _multiple_ opportunities for Erin to sneak up and get the usually stern king to let out a high-pitched squeak, Shinkai never seemed to let his guard down. Erin had tried everything in the book in the first week, and nearly everything he could think of by the time two months had passed, but the minstrel’s poker face still wouldn’t budge. 

He had tried sneaking up to Shinkai in various ways, with a constant rate of success (zero). Each time, Erin would tread with feather-light steps, silent until he could tackle his prey with whatever new trick he had thought of. Each time, however, Shinkai would simply turn around and greet Erin with a calm voice (even when a knife had been brought up _to his throat_ ) and ne’er a flinch.

Erin had tried everything he could think of: back hug, fireworks, tripping him over (which backfired when Shinkai jumped casually over Erin’s extended foot, which had made the perpetrator slip and fall instead), tackles, fake news about their lieges, hell, he’d been desperate enough to consider dressing up as King Sardinia at some point — he certainly had the face for it — but decided against it at the last second. As grand a prank as it would be to both Shinkai and King Orion, it was probably not worth the possibility of causing an international controversy.

One time, Erin jumped off a tree wearing a full grizzly bear costume, one whose effectiveness had been tested on his king beforehand (an afternoon that had ended with Orion chasing his attendant down across the palace for the loss of his dignity). Even though it had scared townspeople out of their wits and made children burst out crying, Shinkai had simply stopped playing his flute and said: “Good evening, Erin. I assume this means King Orion is done with his sightseeing?”

Perhaps the worst thing about all of this, though, was the fact that Shinkai hadn’t even been _trying_ to win anywhere nearly as much as Erin had.

“You’ve never done _any_ fortune-telling arts before?!” Erin asked incredulously, nearly spitting out his drink during one of their (almost weekly by this point) meetings to the teahouse downtown, the punishment Shinkai had chosen for his end of the deal.

“No,” Shinkai replied matter-of-factly, calmly sipping his tea. “I thought you knew.”

Groaning, Erin took a sip of his own tea and grimaced. He never did understand how anyone had a taste for these things — tasted even worse than the exotic wine he had bought from the Burst Roar caravan as a dare.

“Of course I didn’t… besides, that doesn’t add up—“ He started. “I thought it was King Sardinia who said how exceptional of a prophet you are…?”

“His Grace did?” Shinkai asked. Subtle as it may have been to anybody else, Erin had spent time with the minstrel long enough to notice the slight bafflement present in his eyes.

“Yes, he did.”

Shinkai hummed. “I see.”

Erin’s eye twitched. “Don’t you have anything else to say?”

“Not really, no.”

“THAT’S NOT WHAT I—“ Partly to avoid becoming the center of attention, and partly to stop himself from freaking out, Erin smacked his own forehead out of frustration, sighing.

For a moment, Erin suddenly wondered how his king would’ve reacted to this — his attendant, usually the one dishing out witty comments and pranks, even in the most serious of times, finally finding out how it felt to have the tables turned to him, having to do his all just to keep his composure intact…by someone who wasn’t trying to break it, on top of that. Surely, King Orion would never let him hear the end of it.

“Alright, just—“ Erin took a deep breath to regain his usual self. “How did you know, then?”

“Know what?”

“Oh, just about _everything_?!” Erin said, finally losing it. “The wallet! The bear costume! The firework! How did you even know it was me who tried to gag you instead of some robber who’d broken into your house?!”

“Ah,” Shinkai replied, as calmly as ever. “I had a feeling.”

Erin deadpanned. “Like a jackass instinct?”

“No, it’s more like—“ Shinkai hummed for a bit, looking to the side as though pondering how best to put what he was thinking into words. “I had a feeling something was going to happen, and you appeared in my dreams. So I simply braced myself.”

A beat of silence. “That’s it?” Erin asked, stunned.

“That’s it.”

Erin didn’t know whether to be confused or amazed — did this mean Shinkai was simply a natural? Someone who didn’t have to use tarot cards or hydromancy to predict the future like King Sardinia did? And _he didn’t even realize it?_

“Hang on,” Erin said, realizing something. “Ah— does this mean you were lying to me when we made a deal?!”

“I didn’t say that,” Shinkai replied. As always, his face didn’t change even the slightest bit. “I’ve seen your fortune before, I think.”

“You _think_?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t make a promise I can’t keep, would I?”

At this, Erin raised his eyebrow. “What did you see?”

“It’s still a blur. I feel like I’ll need some more time to find out what it means,” Shinkai said. Then, he looked up to meet Erin’s gaze. “Besides, you haven’t managed to surprise me yet.”

Erin hummed. “What did you feel when I slipped in the fake emergency document, then?"

“I felt like it was important to see King Orion the day before, and I saw you doing the same thing to him.”

“When I set fireworks off in your study?”

“I saw fire in my dreams, so I had a bucket of water nearby.”

“When I broke into your room to put booby traps?”

“I just had a feeling you would come by.”

“So?” Erin smirked. “Did you have a feeling you would tell me my fortune, too?”

“‘Not today.”

_Drat._

 

* * *

 

After a while, Erin began to wonder what he had gotten himself into. 

Despite knowing the secret to his ‘fortune-telling’, the task of pranking Shinkai hadn’t gotten any easier — heck, it felt as if it’d gotten _harder_ since, probably because Erin was genuinely starting to run out of ideas. At this rate, he wasn’t going to win the deal he’d started, at least not before his and King Orion’s stay in Sirena ended — or before he bled the king’s wallet dry to pay for Shinkai’s weekly meeting.

 _All of which…_ Erin thought to himself as he laid down even more leaves to cover the deep pithole he had freshly dug mere hours ago. _...are hereby going to be my excuses for resorting to these tactics._

He felt bad doing it — sure, some of these pranks were ones he had pulled on his _very_ respected king in the past, but just because a knife was sharp enough to cut through steel didn’t mean it _should_ be used to cut through a fragile doll. It felt like punching a teddy bear. It felt like a crime.

But he had to do it. This deal had long stopped being about fortune-telling; Erin’s pride simply would never let him admit defeat in something he had started himself.

_Sorry, Shinkai, but in Lama, you go big or go fling yourself across the galaxy._

Satisfied with his work, the former assassin grinned, hands-on-hips, before stepping back to hide in the bushes some ways back. Now, he would only have to wait for his prey to come along, pass the very same path he’d cross to get to the river (his favorite place to play music, Erin had heard from one innkeeper), and watch as he fell into the cleverly-concealed trap. Erin could already imagine it: the surprised look on Shinkai’s face, the yelp he would hear when he fell, and the sweet, sweet taste of victory after months of seeing nothing but the minstrel’s boring, flat, unchanging fa—

“What are you doing, smiling to yourself?”

Erin nearly screamed his head off — _literally_ — as he jumped almost a foot into the air, tripping on his shovel and barely missing hitting his head on the blade in the process. Years of combat training gave him the lightning-fast reflex to reach for his knife, but it was too late — by the time he had realized it, the ground beneath him gave way, and the prankster fell back into his own trap, landing painfully on his back inside the now-uncovered pithole.

It was then that Shinkai’s boring, flat, unchanging face, now much smaller and less panic-inducing than when it had suddenly appeared inches away from Erin’s moments ago, poked into the hole.

“You okay?” His familiar voice called from the top of the pithole, calm as the wind.

“No.” Erin, meanwhile, cursed loudly at the bottom, _not_ very calm at all.

Either unbothered by or ignoring the colorful array of swear words that King Sardinia would have a seizure listening to coming from the Laman attendant, Shinkai bent down. He made sure to keep his cape away from the dirt as he asked: “Do you think you can get back out on your own?”

Erin groaned, cursing his miserable life. “You think?”

For a moment, Shinkai looked as though he was about to answer it properly. Before he could, though, Erin sighed, not sure if he could handle the minstrel’s surprisingly naive side at the moment, and lazily reached out his hand.

Shinkai stared at him. “You do realize if you pull me down now there’ll be no one else to get us out, right?”

 _Dangit._ “Argh, alright, alright! I get it, so just pull me up already!”

And he did, with more than a little difficulty — mostly due to how deep Erin had dug the hole, something the latter sorely regretted doing now. Once they were both out in the light of day again, Erin laid spread-eagled on the ground with a grunt and spit out the dirt that had gotten into his mouth, saying:

“Let me guess,” He looked up at Shinkai, who was dusting off his clothes. “You felt like you should avoid walking through this road, so you went to check out what happened...”

“...And saw you with a shovel, yes.” Shinkai continued, adjusting his hat.

“Of course you did.” Erin sighed.

“That hand part was just too obvious, though.”

“Bastard.”

“Right back.”

There was a rustle in the grass, and Erin looked up to see Shinkai plopping down on the ground. He must’ve decided he would play his music there, instead of his usual spot, because he pulled out his flute, and pressed the mouthpiece to his lips shortly after.

Erin knew better than to stop him by this point. A serene melody grew and swept their surroundings, winds blowing as if to complement the heart-cleansing feeling that was brought with the song. In the distance, Erin could hear the faint rushing of the river down the hill, the spring breeze blowing through the leaves in the outskirts of Sirena’s capital city, the distant, lazy sounds of an afterwork evening back in the city — it cradled him, as if lulling him to sleep, almost like what Shinkai’s warmth on his side was doing to him…

Before he could fall asleep, Erin opened his eyes, unaware when he had closed them to enjoy the wave of serenity washing through him. “No matter how many times I listen to it, your song’s really captivating.”

Shinkai’s playing stopped. “Is it?” 

Erin hummed. “If only your personality could be as graceful.”

“Rich, coming from the guy who dumped a bucket of water on his king’s head over a comment about shampoo.”

“Hey!” Erin chuckled, sitting up. “You try to not get upset being told your hair smells, _then_ we’ll talk.”

“It _does_ smell, though.”

By the time Erin had realized it, Shinkai had already taken hold of his hair, taking a few sniffs of the long, flame-red strands before looking up again.

“I,” Erin smiled lovingly at him. “am going to kill you.”

It took less than a second for the former assassin to get up and playfully pounce on the ever-calm minstrel. Shinkai, on the other hand, must’ve seen this coming in one of his ‘prophecies’ as well, for he dodged just in time to roll out of harm’s way, making sure his hat didn’t fall off the entire time.

“Fair enough,” Shinkai said once he was a few feet away from Erin, putting away his flute with an expressionless face but that same, familiar glint in his eyes. “If you manage to catch me, I’ll consider it the same as you surprising me. Does that sound good?”

Erin got up, his mischievous grin returning. “Oh, it’s _on_.”

To say the chase that ensued afterwards was chaos would’ve been an understatement. Erin had no qualms putting his past skills to use, even in a casual setting such as this. Shinkai, meanwhile, acted like he knew where and when exactly to dodge, always barely slipping past Erin’s outstretched fingers or stuck-out legs. Erin would attempt to grab his cape, but Shinkai would jump just in time to avoid it. The former assassin would jump ahead to get the upper hand, but the minstrel would somehow slip past anyway. Even so, the two of them kept on smiling.

It wasn’t until they had reached the tiny field near the river that Erin finally managed to grab onto Shinkai’s wrist. Due to the speed they had been running in, though, Shinkai lost his balance with a — Erin couldn’t believe his ears — surprised cry, bringing Erin down with him as they tumbled down the hills, only stopping once they had plunged into the cold stream below.

Erin’s head emerged first, gasping for air from running and the water up his nose, dragging himself into the shallower parts of the river. He coughed, gasped, and — laughed. He laughed his heart out for the first time in weeks as the adrenaline caught up with him, filling him to the brim with so many emotions, making him forget all the pent-up anger and frustration that had been piling up from his failures. Brushing away his wet bangs from his face, Erin turned around, about to call for Shinkai— when he froze.

Shinkai was laughing.

For the first time since Erin had met him, he was laughing — laughing his heart out, doubled over from both mirth and fatigue near the shore of the river. Drenched to the bone, the waning sunlight behind him, and the red, purple-tinted skies as his backdrop, Shinkai positively glowed as Erin’s eyes stayed on him, wide and shocked yet captivated and calm.

The man before him screamed grace and dignity, almost as though he had emerged from the deep, silent sea; pure and shy and beautiful and simply _majestic_ , almost like—

_Like a… mermaid…_

…And it was at that moment; when the mermaid, hatless and glasses-less and silhouetted by the sunset, turned around to meet his gaze, smiling genuinely and beautifully, that Erin realized:

It was this same mermaid, all along, who had taken him by surprise and stolen his heart.

 

* * *

 

Ever since then, Erin had met up with Shinkai more often — perhaps a lot more than he should’ve. 

Shinkai had finally admitted defeat, and he promised to tell Erin his long-awaited fortune soon (as he still couldn’t figure out what exactly Erin’s ‘fortune’ was saying). In the meantime, though, they had decided to simply hang out with each other until Shinkai could tell him — Erin still had a few weeks to kill before his and his king’s diplomacy trip to Sirena would end, after all (“Might as well spend it sightseeing while Orion’s still paying, right?”). And maybe, just maybe—

— A few weeks would be enough time for Erin to fully enjoy the thrill that came with falling in love with someone.

Unlike the time when Erin was desperately trying to prank Shinkai, Erin was thoroughly enjoying their little spread-out meetings now. Exchanged whispers behind their kings letting each other know when they would meet up later, the many arts and crafts shops in the bustling, lustrous city of Sirena which Shinkai took Erin to in their spare time, and those quiet evenings when Erin would simply listen to Shinkai’s song beside the riverbed, talking about useless matters and laughing along — he enjoyed it all immensely.

Perhaps the prankster had let that enjoyment show _too_ much, actually. King Orion had been no stranger to his attendant’s quest to prank the powerful prophet, but not even he could miss such an obvious change in his attitude. One day, after a long day of work on forging a Sirena-Lama alliance with King Sardinia, King Orion outright asked him why he was grinning all over the place. Like any other respectful attendant, Erin had asked him back why _he_ was frowning all over the place.

“Idiots, the two of you,” the young king had sighed after attempting to smack his attendant square on the head — and missed. “You have managed to prank someone at last, and the first thing you do is get…all attached to them without a care for anyone else. You are truly going to get into trouble with that attitude someday... “

Erin had stopped tying his hair up, then. “Ori— My king,” he had said, halfway through wanting to smirk and halfway through feeling incredulous enough to raise his brow past his hairline. “Could it be you’re… jealous?”

Orion had scoffed. “Who knows?”

 

* * *

 

The days turned to weeks, and time flew by much faster than Erin would’ve liked it to. Once leaving Sirena, it’d be a different kind of hell trying to get back in, as the city-planet had had an infamous reputation of being heavily regulated and closed-off. Once Erin had gone home, only God would know when he and Shinkai would meet again — if ever. 

It was for these reasons that Erin felt like his legs were heavier than usual on his last day in Sirena.

Faking the spring in his steps and the cheerful attitude on his face, he had made his way to the city square, where he and Shinkai had agreed to meet up for the last time before the Laman representatives went home. Once he’d arrived, it didn’t take long to spot a cerulean hat beneath the park’s beautiful architecture, so he opened his mouth to call out, but closed it again once he had noticed something rather… unusual.

Shinkai looked as if he was in shock. Looking at something in the distance — or perhaps at nothing at all — the usually emotionless minstrel had aghast written all over his face. Fingers subtly shaking around his flute and his body still as a stone, this behavior was something Erin and, he was willing to bet, King Sardinia had never seen in Shinkai in all the time he had known him… Just what the hell had happened?

Frowning, Erin approached him carefully. Shinkai didn’t seem to have even noticed the former assassin’s presence before he had put a hand on his shoulder, at which the minstrel — how unlikely of him — flinched.

“Shinkai?” Erin said, his frown deepening. “What’s wrong?”

“Ah—“ As quickly as it had appeared, the shock that had been present on Shinkai’s face disappeared. Instead, he gave the former assassin a fond smile as if nothing was amiss in the world. “Good morning, Erin. I take it you’ll be leaving for Lama later today?”

Erin stared at him, trying to see through his emotionless mask. After a few moments, though, he decided Shinkai was still unreadable as usual after all, and decided to drop it — this was likely going to be their last meeting in a long time, after all.

“Mm-hmm, yeah,” Erin said, cheerful again. “We’ll be leaving soon, actually. There’s been news that the rebels’ case has gotten even worse.”

“The ones who attacked the castle?”

Erin nodded.

“Our messenger said there are rumors they’ve sought aid in Alba and some other superpower planet,” He said, smiling up to Shinkai now. “Sorry we couldn’t get the donuts you promised.”

Shinkai shrugged. “Nothing else we can do about it,” he said, as aloof as ever. “I wonder if I can send some to Lama sometime?”

“Eh— no thanks, the paperworks would be hell.”

“As if you wouldn’t make King Orion take care of it for you anyway?”

“Jackass.” Erin chuckled.

Shinkai smiled. “Right back.”

There was a few moments of silence, then. Erin didn’t know why, but as cheesy as it sounded, he wished that moment would last forever. Simply enjoying each other’s presence — Erin wondered when he would be able to do it again... and whether Shinkai felt the same or not.

“Erin,” Shinkai suddenly began, causing Erin to look up. “About your fortune…”

“Oh,” Erin said. He…had not remembered that at all. “You’ve figured it out?”

Shinkai nodded. He looked up for a moment, and recited: “ _If you ever lost your way, in a way you cannot foresee, look for the crescent moon above the deep, silent sea.”_

Erin blinked. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Huh,” Erin mumbled. Well, he guessed he might as well remember his hard-earned fortune, but still… he had expected something more… specific.

 _Ah, well,_ Erin sighed. _That’s not what I came here for, anyway…_

“Say, Shinkai,” Erin began, looking up at the skies. “Can I ask you something?”

Shinkai soon joined him, staring at the clouds above, cluttering the dazzling blue backdrop. “You already are.”

Erin chuckled and lightly slapped him. For the most fleeting of moments, he swore he saw what looked like a smirk on Shinkai’s lips.

“I just wanted to ask,” Erin continued. “What would you do if I… said I—“

Shinkai gave him a sideways glance, and Erin avoided his gaze as discreetly as he could.

“If I said I…” Erin took a deep breath. He glanced back down, finally, to look at his comrade. _Come on, Erin, get your shit together… you’ve got to tell him, you’ve got to—_ “...probably wanted some of those donuts sent after all?”

_Fucking amazing, me._

”Sure,” Shinkai answered. “I’ll ask His Grace if it’s at all possible, I suppose. But don’t count on our customs on being lenient.”

Erin bit back his tongue to smile. Wow, did he want to disappear so badly right now. “Okay! I’ll look forward to it!”

There was more they had wanted to talk about — a lot more, but unfortunately, a messenger suddenly came for Erin before they could discuss anything meaningful. He gave his message, and left as Erin casually waved him good-bye.

“My ship’s gonna be departing soon,” Erin told Shinkai. “They say the situation’s escalated… What a true pain in the ass.”

“It’ll get even worse if you keep ignoring it,” Shinkai commented. “His Grace also expressed concerns that something bad is going to happen soon, too.”

Erin sighed. “I guess… I should get going then,” he chuckled and gave his comrade a bitter smile. “Sorry we ended up not talking much… Thanks for everything!”

“Oh— no problem,” Shinkai replied, waving a little. “Take care.”

“Mmm,” Erin said. He turned on his heels, then, already heading back where he had come from. “Bye-bye, Shinkai.”

He thought this was it; the moment when everything was finally over, and all he could do was accept what had happened. But as Erin started heading towards the road that led to the harbor, Shinkai called out his name.

“Erin.”

Erin turned halfway through the city arch. “Yeah?”

Shinkai’s lips curled into a warm smile. “I love you too.”

Erin blinked. _….Wh—?_

Erin’s eyes widened. His face instantly turned to the color of his hair, his mouth slightly agape, and for the first time in his life, the prankster was flustered enough to be rendered utterly speechless. Only God knows what he was wildly gesturing with his hands, and how loudly the former assassin wanted to scream at that very moment.

_Wh— wh— wh— wh—_

Finally, after many incoherent mumblings and one brain working on overdrive, he stopped, then scrambled to cover his face from pure _embarrassment_ , internally screaming and wishing he could cease existing right then and there.

_What????!!!!!_

“S-S-S-S—“ Erin stuttered. It took his all just to look up from under his hands — _God,_ he was _so_ embarrassed… “S-S-S-Since…. w-when… d-did you—?!”

“From the start, dummy,” was Shinkai’s answer. From his tone, he could’ve been stating that an apple was red. “You’re actually not a very good liar, did you know that?”

“I-I-I—“ Never have words failed Erin as much as it did today. He didn’t know what to say — what to think. Eh? Had he heard that right? Had he _really_ heard that right? Did Shinkai just say what Erin thought he did? Should he say something in retaliation? What was he supposed to say? Should he stay? Should he go? What about the boat? Eh? Eh???

His embarrassment must’ve shown ( _obviously_ ), because Shinkai told him: “Hey, don’t worry about it. We can talk about it more later.”

Contrary to what Shinkai had intended, that line did little in the way of reassuring Erin. For a moment, the poor boy looked as if he was panicking even worse instead. After a while, though, the red-haired assassin promptly slapped himself in the face — so hard that Shinkai worried he might’ve actually punched himself instead — and finally nodded repeatedly, apparently still not trusting himself enough to speak.

Shinkai smiled. “Have a safe trip, then, Erin.”

Again, Erin nodded. He was halfway through turning on his heels, about to head back again, when—

Erin bit his lip.

“Shinkai!” He yelled, turning back around.

The person in question looked up. Before he could process anything, though, something tugged at the collar of his cape — hard — and suddenly, he felt the warm touch of a pair of lips on his cheek, turning it a slight shade of pink. Erin didn’t let go of his cape right away, instead using it to partially cover his face as he said, quietly:

“...love you too.”

Before Shinkai could say anything else, Erin had already stomped away without another word, out of the park and into the road leading to the harbor, face still red in his hands. Shinkai watched on as he left, a stray hand unconsciously reaching up to where Erin had kissed him mere moments ago.

And he let himself smile, bitterly. “Bye-bye, Erin.”

 

* * *

 

Ignorance was truly bliss.

Because if only Erin had known back then, he would have talked with Shinkai more. If only he had known back then, he would rather say screw it with the ship and have spent more time with his love. If only he had known back then, he would’ve done all sorts of other things—

If only he had known back then, that the next time he visited Sirena, the place would be ablaze, he would never have left Shinkai’s side…

It had been the combined forces of Laman and Alban rebels, seeking to put an end to Lama’s alliance with the Star of Clear Waters in order to damage their current king’s reputation and kick him off the throne. In the few months that had passed since Erin’s departure, the rebels had sneaked into the Sirenan capital, patiently waiting for the day they could launch their attack.

Now, that day finally came.

Erin sprinted down the ravaged streets of the once-beautiful capital. King Orion had ordered him to go on ahead after witnessing the pale look on his attendant’s face upon arriving at the harbor. His mind was blank — he couldn’t think of anything, he couldn’t feel _anything_ except for the loud beating in his ribcage, the sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach, the panic settling into every inch of his being — and the thought of a certain someone at the back of his mind.

Biting his lip, he ignored the piles of dead bodies around what used to be a bustling marketplace, the screams of men and women from all over the place, the waterways stained dark red from ashes and blood, the smell of burnt houses in the air around him — he ran past it all. He could only hope, with all his might, that none of these disfigured bodies wore a familiar set of cerulean cape and hat.

“SHINKAI!” He had yelled his name desperately, frantically looking around at each intersection. _Please_ , he had pleaded hopelessly, looking with all his might for a sign — _anything_ , that may quell his one, greatest fear. _Please…_

Call it fate, call it divine intervention, but at that moment, Erin was suddenly reminded of his last talk with Shinkai. Hurriedly, he scanned the area around him, and there it was: a giant crescent moon, the Sirenan national symbol embedded on the very top of its glorious palace.

Erin didn’t even think about it — he immediately charged towards the center of the city, to the square above which the crescent moon proudly stood on the burning palace. On his way there, he found some of the rebels already dead at his feet before neither the Laman or Bestian army had arrived, and by the time he had gotten near the palace, he’d figured out why: these rebels all died from drowning — King Sardinia was nearby.

Erin had been running so fast that he nearly fell trying stop in front of the gate. Not letting himself catch his breath, he looked around, frantically searching for signs of the king — of his attendant — _anything_ —

Suddenly, his crimson eyes landed on a cerulean hat beneath the palace’s now-crumbled arch. Erin sighed in relief, smiling, opening his mouth to call out to him as he approached the center of the square —

— …and his heart sank.

Bloodied hands cradled what looked like a limp bundle of blood and dirt hidden under a torned blue cape; warm tears seeped into the burnt fabric underneath; broken fingers mourningly ran through _his_ messy, ash-stained hair. Cradling the limp body of his attendant close, King Sardinia let out a quiet sob which almost seemed to echo loudly through the sounds of battle in the distance and the ringing in Erin’s ears.

Erin’s eyes widened. His breath was caught in his throat. His mouth slightly agape. His muscles refused to move an inch. Slowly, hesitantly, his gaze moved from the young king to the lifeless figure in his hands; to the ever-calm face, covered in blood yet filled with peace; to the eyes behind those shattered glasses, that made it look like he was sleeping soundly in his king’s lap, about to wake up anytime soon, to tell King Sardinia and Erin not to cry, to make a witty comeback about how ghost-like Erin’s face looked like…

Erin’s legs suddenly felt weak, and he fell to his knees. All at once, his feelings came back to him, rendering him motionless as he stared at Shinkai’s body. No words came out of his lips, no sound slipping past the giant lump at the back of his throat. His mind was still white-hot when he felt the warmth of his tears down his cheek, as if seeping out of his shocked, frozen, crumbling heart.

Because it had finally hit him then, that he would never see the brilliant green eyes of the mermaid he loved open ever again.


	2. Epilogue: La mia lama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me:
> 
> Brain: here's an epilogue idea to make this fic even sadder before yamariku day
> 
> Me: what

Dear Erin,

The first time I laid my eyes on you, I felt as if I’d been put under a spell. Did you know that?

It was as if you dropped out of the heavens — in the most devilish way possible. Your long, crimson hair, a much bolder color than King Orion’s soft silver strands, dropped everywhere like a curtain of blazing fire; your eyes, shining with youth as bright as Sirena’s marble sculptures, stared playfully at the fruits of your (misaligned) labour as you heartily laughed; your upside-down face, beaming with a mischievous smile as a flurry of flower petals dropped together with you from the ceiling and onto your king’s head, His Grace’s robes, the brim of my hat, _everywhere_. Almost child-like in behavior, you pranked the three of us on our way to the star observers’ annual summit meeting.

Do you remember?

It was the first summit I accompanied His Grace to. A simple customary introduction between our Kings, befitting of the infamous closed-off policy Sirena had upheld until recently, before you came along — but I couldn’t forget it even if I wanted to.

(King Orion’s livid face was truly a memorable sight, after all, as he attempted to smack you off the beams with the back of his sword.)

Perhaps you did not notice, but I was too busy containing my laughter when King Orion turned to announce who the little devil hanging from the ceiling was:

Erin, attendant to the King of Lama.

Do you remember, the first time we made that deal?

Frankly, all I thought at the time was just “Oh, good, this month’s expenses is taken care of by this little gremlin.” But, as it soon became apparent, that wasn’t the case for long.

It got harder to anticipate your antics after a while, you know. The whole ‘crocodile in the waterways’ act had me actually believing it for a second — until I remembered Sirena did not, in fact, have an underground sewage. Your pranks and deceits steadily became more and more difficult to predict as time went by. Though I suppose you did not notice, I had to keep upping my game.

(Forgive me, my virtue does not lie at expressing myself.)

By the time a few weeks had passed, I found myself starting to enjoy our little meetings.

Sirena is a peaceful, laid-back country. Hardly anyone posed ourselves with such challenges, even moreso a foreteller like myself. I have admit — I enjoyed the slight uncertainty I could never foresee in your antics. In fact, I began to realize how much I loved it. I’ve never laughed so much in my life as I did that day, drenched in the river like a fish. I have to say, I never saw you shine so brilliantly before, either.

Even without my glasses, I could see your smile, the most genuine I had ever seen, gleaming brightly. Even with your bangs sticking to your face, your looked as beautiful as the waning sunset we saw that day. Even drenched to the bone, your eyes were as warm and kind as the welcoming spring breeze of Sirena. Even riddled with tired panting, your laughter sounded like music to my ears.

I realized that day, you really _have_ stunned me -- perhaps all the way into my heart.

Did you feel the same way?

...Erin, please forgive me.

By the time you are reading this, I might no longer be in this world.

I’m sure you’d like to know the details of whatever it was that I saw the last time we met, but let me simply put it this way: I don’t know, but I know. I knew.

I, myself, don’t know when or how it’ll happen. Or if it will at all, if I may be so hopeful. Sirena is in danger. Make no mistake, I am still the king’s attendant, and I will do everything in my power to protect him from harm — even if it costs me my life. Come what may, I will abandon neither my duty nor Sardinia.

But, dear Erin; if I may divulge to you my deepest, darkest thoughts one last time, I’m going to be honest — I don’t want to die.

If the star gem existed, I would lie down everything I had right now to wish one thing upon it: to see you one more time.

Perhaps for the first time in my life, I bear wishes of my own regarding my so-called prophecies — that I don’t want it to come true. That I wish I could be unsure enough about my foretellings to have high hopes, that I could laugh it off as a thirty-to-seventy percent chance, that it was something blurry and open to interpretation so as to put my worry to rest, that I could stay by your side, but…

It’s sometimes a terrifying experience, honestly, being a prophet who’s never wrong.

I suppose reality isn’t going to be so kind, either. As I am writing this letter, there has been sightings of suspicious, hooded figures looming about and nearly injuring my king on his recent town visits. I agree with His grace’s decision to suspend such activities for now, but I still don’t have a good feeling about this in the slightest.

If it does happen, I know this will be a hard time for you. I pray that whatever it is that will take me out doesn’t spread to Lama. In the worst case scenario, however, I have high hopes that you, King Orion, King Sardinia, King Fang, King Carnelian, and Lord Capella will all hold out. May the blessings of the stars be with you all.

(Speaking of which, you left your lucky gem in your temporary quarters here the other day. If it’s alright, I’m holding on to it for safekeeping — don’t worry, I’ll ask Sardinia to give it back to you if I lose the ability to do so. But still, prepared for the worst, I can only hope it’ll keep me safe as it had you.)

Erin, I’m sorry for deceiving you. But please, have no doubt that my heart belongs to none other than you.

Is it the same for you?

If so, then please — if something were to happen to me, please find yourself someone else, someone to love you and stay by your side, someone better than your useless lover, a bard-prophet who cannot even convey his feelings properly in person. You have a cute face, I’m sure it’ll be a walk in the park to you. Whoever you choose to be with, I pray for your eternal happiness, so go out there and flirt with somebody other than Orion for once, tiger!

(Or, you know, I suppose you’d make a great royal, too. Just remember to stop hanging off the ceiling.)

Or maybe… if I may be so bold as to hope, maybe it wouldn’t happen at all.

Maybe I’ll be wrong for once, maybe nothing bad is going to happen, maybe that red I saw was just the color of your hair, maybe Sirena will be fine, maybe everything in this letter will all be for naught, and I am just sounding like an incredibly overdramatic grown man right now. If that happens, be sure to mail me back with insults about how sappy I got, alright?

I will talk to my king about my prophecy tonight. I can only hope... nothing bad will happen.

I hope you’ll enjoy the donuts. I love you.

If we were ever to be reborn, I wish the stars will let me stay by your side a little longer than they had today.

 

With all my heart,

Shinkai

 

(P.S. Oh, I almost forgot — remember the picture that artisan took of us with that ‘camera’ thing? When we were on our way back from buying King Orion flowers? I just got it this morning, so I’ll send yours over. You look lovely in those braids, though I may need to practice doing a neater one ~~when~~ if we meet again.)

 

 


End file.
